Zombie AU
by Liana Legaspi
Summary: Percy was never much of a genius. Or a psychic. Or…well, anything for that matter. But as soon as stormy grey eyes met his, he knew then and there that he'd need to work with this girl. He didn't know what those things were, or where they came from, but from here on out it was team Jackson and Chase. And hell, they were screwed.


It was way too early for Percy to be dealing with this kind of crap.

Said crap referring to either school or the blond priss sitting beside him, correcting the teacher and acting high and mighty like a grey-eyed Hermoine Granger—take your pick. A kid in the front row muttered something about "overcompensating for being blond." And Mr. Turgeon didn't bother calling him out on it.

It was that bad.

Percy shrunk into his seat, jamming his headphones into his ears and playing Fall Out Boy as loud as it could go. It wasn't even like he minded algebra that much—he sucked at it, sure. But for the most part, he was kind of willing to give it a try, but ever since this new chick strode in, hair frizzy and eyes flashing like everyone was doing her a personal wrong by living, Percy really just couldn't stand to listen to her nasally, know-it-all voice.

The Stolls said she was constantly ticked just 'cause Olympian High couldn't make any room for another student in any of their honor's classes, even if she was a total genius and a science prodigy and was working on a cure for breast cancer. (Okay, he wasn't so sure about that last one, but whatever—at this rate, it wouldn't surprise him.)

Percy could buy it. The Stolls got in sent to the principal's office each class, but somehow avoided being expelled each time. And as far as Percy was concerned, blackmail was the only excuse. _Lots _of blackmail. So yeah, the Stolls knew their stuff.

As soon as Annabeth snapped around to give him her signature death glare, Percy figured that maybe blasting his music so loud you could hear it even without having your headphones on wasn't, in fact, a good idea.

"Would you shut that crap off?" she hissed. "It is so distracting—not to mention, super tacky."

Percy didn't exactly agree. He read somewhere on Tumblr that upbeat music actually heightened your concentration, but he wasn't about to butt heads with a chick who got partnered up with Clarisse La Rue in PE and sent _her _to the nurse. He grudgingly turned it down a few notches.

"Philistine," he muttered.

Annabeth's lips pursed, but she must've been feeling generous that day or something because thankfully she didn't say anything else.

Percy tugged his hoodie over his face and let his head fall back. If you could see her, you'd think she'd be the cheerleader type or at least one of those girls that went into the bathroom in pairs and sprayed their letterman jackets with cologne so it seemed like they had a boyfriend. She looked like one of those girls who'd be best friends with Silena Beauregard and have sleepovers with Drew Tanaka, but she seriously wasn't.

She spent most of her time in the library—which Percy had nothing against. He might've been dyslexic but hey, when your school's got a stash of books large enough to make the Library of Congress look like a parody, even the most bibliophobic student had to admit it was pretty cool. And the new kid taking a liking to it wasn't that big of a surprise. But when Annabeth managed to convince Mrs. Minerva to let her actually have lunch inside it so she could in some extra study time _every single day_, it got kind of weird.

Worst part, she didn't even have to decency to look like a nerd. She didn't dress cute or anything—borderline frumpy to be honest, but so far, Percy hadn't seen any mom jeans, plaits, or glasses on her. Totally just broke school procedure right there. Not cool.

And then there was gym. Now Percy kind of prided himself on being a pretty okay athlete. He wasn't, like, Jackie Chan or anything, but he could do a pretty decent drop kick or run a mile. But Annabeth definitely made his manliness points go down. She must've been brought up learning self-defense and kneeing grown men in the crotch or something because she was one hell of a spitfire on the mat.

So far the only ones who _could_ stand her were Luke Castellan and Thalia Grace.

Both of which may or may have not been his cousins, or siblings—their family tree was kind of sketchy. Pretty much everyone in this town had at least one one nightstand with everyone else and _voila_—you've got yourself one big, confused, happy family. No one knowing who was related to who.

There was even a little episode where Travis was dating Katie, but it turned out he was her second-cousin or something—but that's a different story. And one that will never ever, ever be told, thank you very much.

Granted, Luke was actually on the school's welcoming committee so he was pretty much required to like her, and as for Thalia, she got stuck with being her liaison. Percy snorted, he could practically _see_ the way Annabeth must've wrinkled her nose at his possible cousin and/or sister.

You see, Thalia didn't exactly fit into the preppy crowd. She wore chains and leather jackets—steel-toed boots like she was ready to march all over any poor sap who got between her and enchiladas (except for Grover, despite having a leg disease, he always managed to get first serve on enchilada day, don't ask).

Annabeth must've gone into shock when she noticed her nose stud. Percy wasn't there to see it (he was busy writing a report on a book he'd never read), but he'd heard enough to know that some bad, bad things happened that day. Like, Godzilla level of bad.

Although, something good must've happened too, he guessed, 'cause the next day Thalia let Annabeth sit next to her on the bus.

Not that he didn't trust Thalia's judgment or anything (only, he kind of didn't, 'cause she was also the girl who thought it'd be a good idea to tattoo a certain, explicit image onto Mr. Mars's face when he was sleeping), but in general, Percy did his best to steer clear of the 5'9" terror that was Annabeth Chase.

They were on the same team in gym. They almost made an effort to cooperate.

They sat together in math. They sort of let the other do their thing.

They passed each other in the halls and said nothing. They barely spoke when spoken to. Annabeth only shot him dirty looks when he rode his skateboard in the hall, and Percy just rolled his eyes from behind his hair when she'd meticulously pick all the pepperoni off her pizza and carefully place olives on instead, like she was dealing with some complex piece of technology.

It wasn't exactly enjoyable—actually, it was borderline torture to have to deal with it on a daily basis, but it'd have to do.

Percy didn't know exactly what he'd done to tick her off that badly. He was pretty sure the only thing he'd ever really said _to_ her, as opposed to at her back, was "hello." And if she somehow found that offensive, then how was he supposed to know?

Either way, one thing was for sure, Annabeth definitely didn't like his guts. She didn't like his skateboard or clothes or "uncommon appetite" for blue food—heck, she got annoyed with him when he _exhaled_ a little too loudly than what was considered "appropriate" (whatever the hell that meant).

And you know what, she was probably never going to like his guts, and Percy was A-okay with this. So what? They put up with each other for a couple years and then she'd head off to whatever fancy college was calling her name—that'd be the end of it.

That was the plan.

That was the unspoken pact between them.

And you know what the saddest thing is? It totally would've worked if not for a dozen gaunt, groaning figures disrupting their math class, the first one lunging at Michael Yew, sinking its teeth into his shoulder.

Someone screamed, and for all he knew, it could've been him. He'd never admit it out loud, but seeing the blood trickle down their chins and taking in their rotting faces, Percy pissed his pants a little.

It was a massacre. In the time it took for Percy's brain to catch up and realize what was happening, a class of forty kids had dropped to two and what used to be clean, checkered floors looked more red than they used to be.

He would've been a goner too. If it wasn't for Annabeth tackling him to the floor and grabbing his hand and yanking him away, through the back entrance.

Percy was never much of a genius. Or a psychic. Or…well, anything for that matter. But as soon as stormy grey eyes met his, he knew then and there that he'd need to work with this girl.

He didn't know what those things were, or where they came from, but from here on out it was team Jackson and Chase.

And hell, they were screwed.

* * *

**Not sure whether I'll continue it or not, but it's now. So, like it? Hate it? Tell me what you think.**


End file.
